


Twice in a Lifetime

by Ltleflrt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alphas are kind and respectful, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Art teacher dean, Chemistry Teacher Castiel, M/M, Past Dean/Cain, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: Blood bonds are a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and Dean's already experienced--and lost--his.  No alpha would ever want an omega that already smells mated to someone else... would they?





	Twice in a Lifetime

After hanging the last poster from his collection, Castiel takes several steps back and surveys his work.  What had once been dull, bare walls were now decorated with Hubble shots of nebulae, portraits of influential scientists, and his favorite science related quotes.

He smiles up at the one he’d just hung, a cartoonish depiction of an atom surrounded by the words _Think Like A Proton - Stay Positive!_  The kids always groan at that one, a reaction(ha!) he never gets tired of.  

A soft knock at the door brings his attention around, and his smile--his whole body--freezes when he meets the gaze of the man hovering just inside the portal.  He’s not a stranger to beautiful people, heck his sister in law Kali works in fashion, but his guest still takes his breath away.  He’s all burnished gold, and wide shoulders, and strong masculine features softened by lovely eyes and pink lips.  It’s really no wonder Castiel’s whole being misfires.

And then the man’s scent reaches him, and Castiel is transported to a field of blooming dandelions and sunshine.  And under it all a hint of honey… and mated omega.  

Luckily Castiel’s internal lockup is only temporary, and he recovers fast enough that he doubts the man noticed anything.  “Hello.”

“Hi,” the man says with a friendly smile of his own that bares lovely white teeth.  “You’re the new science teacher?”

“Yes, that’s me.”  After rubbing his palms on his thighs, he closes the space between them and holds out a hand to shake.  His eyes drop briefly to the man’s throat, and sure enough there’s the pale crescent scar of a mating bite on the left side.  He quickly meets Dean’s eyes-- _oh...green_ \-- again, and resolutely refuses to look anywhere else.  “I’m Castiel Milton.”

“Dean Winchester.  I teach all the art classes.” He lifts a hand to take Castiel’s but then hesitates at the last moment.  “Oh uh… sorry.”  He holds it up, showing that it’s caked with what looks like drying mud, and grimaces.  “Been testin’ out the pottery wheels before classes start tomorrow.”

Castiel chuckles and drops his hand, half relieved and half disappointed that he doesn’t have the chance to test the strength of Dean’s grip.  Both reactions he resolutely ignores, because not only is the lovely omega his co-worker, but he’s very clearly unavailable and it’s best he nip all reactions beyond friendly in the bud.  His eyes still slip over Dean’s body, and he sees more flecks of mud all over his clothing.  “So does all that mud mean they’re working?”

“Always,” Dean says with a twinkling smile.  “Mostly my fault though… I get out of practice over the summer vacation.” One eye drops shut in a playful wink.  “And sometimes it’s fun to get a little dirty, y’know?”

Heat rushes to Castiel’s cheeks because the first kind of _‘dirty’_ that comes to mind definitely doesn’t involve throwing clay.  He quickly shoves those thoughts away, because there’s no way he wants to come across as the kind of alpha that moves in on others’ territory.  And he doubts Dean was actually flirting with him.  It’s just a joke, and Castiel can give as good as he gets.  “I’d rather make things explode,” he says lightly.  “It’s why I’m teaching chemistry.”

He earns a warm laugh from the other man, and Castiel’s heart sinks into his stomach.  There’s no way he’s going to be able to work with Dean and not develop a crush on him.  It’s probably already too late.

“Hey, if you’re done, I can go clean up and we can get lunch?” Dean hooks a thumb over his shoulder.  “There’s a fantastic little sandwich shop a few blocks away.  The kids swarm the place once school starts, so we gotta get in there now while things are slow.”

He shouldn’t.  His classroom is finished, supplies fully stocked and decorations all in place, but he should make an excuse to stay behind, to eat the lunch he’d brought from home.  

“Yes,” he says, damning himself to a hell of his own making.  “I’d like that.”

***

“So, you and the new guy seem to be all buddy buddy.”

Dean winces and casts a side-eye at the computer sciences teacher, aka Charlie Bradbury, aka his very best friend.  “Castiel?” Like she could mean anyone else, but he’s going for nonchalant here.  “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.”

Hella understatement.  But he’s not going to announce to Charlie, and the students in line for crappy school burgers around him, that he’s absolutely twitterpated over the handsome alpha.  As he accepts a pile of limp fries from a pimply faced kitchen volunteer, he does his best to keep his expression casual while internally clamping down on his inner omega to keep it from bouncing excitedly about the topic of Castiel Milton.  

It doesn’t work at all, since the dandelions practically bloom in his scent.  

“Pretty cool, huh?” Charlie smirks and accepts her own serving of subpar fries.  “I _guess_ that _kinda_ explains why you smell so happy just saying his name.”

Luckily they’re walking away from any young and impressionable ears.  But still, he hisses a warning at her to keep her voice down, and scans the room to make sure no one is paying undo attention as he makes his way out of the cafeteria to the teacher’s lounge.  He casts her a pleading look.  “Please can we drop it?”

She gives him an exasperated look in return.  “Dean if you like him--”

“It doesn’t matter!” He winces at the sharpness of his own tone and stops outside the lounge.  No students are in sight, so he takes the moment of privacy to answer the question he knows she really wants to ask.  

“Look, I like him.  He’s funny-” fuckin’ hilarious actually, always delivering jokes in a perfect deadpan, with only a sparkle in his lake blue eyes giving him away, “-and good looking-” Dean’s always had a thing for dark hair and blue eyes, but he doesn’t feel the sharp pang of sorrow when he looks at Castiel, “-and he smells good-” ginger and spearmint, like the herbal tea Dean likes to drink when he’s trying to relax on a winter evening, “-but he’s an alpha, and I’m a mated omega.  It’s never going to go anywhere other than friendship.”

“Only if you don’t tell him the truth,” Charlie points out.

Sighing, Dean balances his lunch tray on one hand and reaches up to rub at the side of his neck.  The scar tissue has long since softened, and he can’t even feel it anymore.  A familiar ache grows in his chest over the loss.  “He probably wouldn’t care, Charlie,” he murmurs.  “Alphas never do.”

He pushes through the door into the teacher’s lounge to escape from Charlie’s sad eyes.  

“Dean!”

Speak of the devil.  Despite knowing that he shouldn’t join the alpha at his table, that he should turn around and walk back out and go eat in his classroom instead of torturing himself, Dean joins Castiel at the little table on the far side of the room.  “Heya, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean. Charlie.” Castiel’s cheerful greeting immediately brings the flowery undertones back to Dean’s scent, but the ache in his chest doesn’t fade.  His sweet smile fades a little as he eyes their lunches.  “You didn’t bring your own food?”

“The fries ain’t much to look at,” Dean admits, poking at the sad looking pile of potatoes.  “But the burgers are actually pretty good.”  

“I’ll take your word for it, and stick with my ham sandwich.”  Castiel’s lip curls with distaste, but the sparkle is still there in his eyes.  Then he brightens, and reaches into the lunch bag near his elbow.  He pulls out two apples, making Dean’s mouth go dry watching his large hand gripping both of them, and sets one in front of Dean and the other in front of Charlie.  “These are way better than those fries.  Compliments of some students.”

Of course a couple of kids would bring Castiel apples.  He’s exactly the kind of teacher students glom onto and adore.  Caring, funny, and willing to blow shit up to make them all scream happily in the aftermath--something Dean hears at least once a week on the other side of the brick wall separating their classrooms.  

Yeah, Dean gets it.  He’s got a crush too.  Ever since the day before school started and he’d followed an intriguing scent to the room next door, he’s been hot for teacher.  

Too bad he’s got about as much chance with Castiel as one of his prepubescent middle schoolers.  

“Thanks, Cas,” he says softly, looking down at the apple instead of the alpha who’d gifted it to him.  

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

The alpha’s equally soft tone brings Dean’s eyes up, and he falls into blue pools, darker than the ones he’s loved in his past, but still full of the gentle kindness that drew him to Cain all those years ago.  

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Charlie moans around the first bite of her burger, and he tears his eyes away, looking down at his own lunch.  His appetite is gone, at least for food, but since he can’t put his mouth on the lips of the man sitting next to him, he picks up his burger and pretends that kind of thing would never cross his mind.

***

“He’s not mated y’know.”

Castiel’s head jerks around and down and he stares wide eyed at Charlie Bradbury, the only other science teacher at the small school.  They’ve become good friends since he’s joined the faculty, mostly because they share a department, but also because she often joins him and Dean when all their lunch periods align.  “I’m sorry, what?”

Tiny white lights from the disco ball hanging over the auditorium slide across her face, but her eyes are hidden behind the large round seventies style sunglasses she’s wearing to match her hippie costume.  Her lips press together in a wry smile, and she pushes the glasses up onto her forehead.  “Dean,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from nearby speakers.  “He’s not mated.”

Castiel blinks down at her for a long moment, then lifts his head to frown across the dance floor at the man in question.  He sees Dean grinning at a student as he passes the young witchling a cup of red punch he’d spoon up from a black plastic cauldron steaming with dry ice.  Dean himself had opted for a simple vampire costume for the halloween dance, slicking his hair back, and putting in a set of ridiculous plastic fangs that he flashes at every kid he serves.  

“He’s…” of course Dean’s mated.  If it wasn’t obvious in his scent, the mating scar gracing his neck is clearly visible above the collar of the ratty, paint splattered t-shirts he wears in his classes.  “Yes, he is.”

Charlie nudges him in the side with an elbow to regain his attention.  “Well he _was._ For a few years, but not anymore.”

He frowns down at her.  “What does that mean?”

While some matings can be broken if they’re just a simple scent bond, the blood bond induced by a bite is forever, changing the pair’s bodily chemistry for life.  There’s no past tense for that kind of mating--

\--unless one of the pair dies.

All the air leaves Castiel’s lungs in a whoosh, fading into a soft _“oh.”_

Charlie’s eyes, no longer hidden behind her glasses, are full of sorrow.  “Yeah, you get it now.”

Castiel turns back to watch Dean again, and he wonders how he missed it.  He’s seen it in small flashes of sadness before a joke, and in the way Dean goes quiet when other teachers talk about their own mates.  It’s come through in his scent when he thinks he’s alone, but it’s always quickly overwhelmed by the smell of blooming dandelions when Castiel makes his presence known.

“And for the record,” Charlie says, cutting into Castiel’s thoughts.  “He’s crushing on you as hard as you’re crushing on him.”

Something twinges in Castiel’s neck when he jerks his head toward her this time.  “I’m not--” he cuts off and runs a hand over his jaw.  “Am I that obvious?”

“Not really, but you just confirmed my suspicions.” She smiles at him sweetly, and he realizes he fell into a trap.  “Anyway, I’m telling you this because he hasn’t yet.  He doesn’t think you’d be interested in a mated omega.”

No self respecting alpha would be, which is why Castiel has lost so much sleep to his guilt over the last few months.  The scent of a mate under Dean’s skin should be a complete turn off to him, but instead he’s plagued by dreams of Dean, both of the carnal and the domestic nature.  He’s obviously a terrible alpha, and Dean would hate him if he knew…

...but…

“You…” he pauses, licking his lips, uncertain even now that he should want Dean at all.  “You think he likes me?  I mean, like--”

Charlie’s laugh tinkles over the music, cutting off his fumbling.  “Yeah, Cas.  He _likes_ likes you.”  She punches him not so lightly in the arm.  “So go get him, tiger.”

Still bewildered over everything she’s told him, he lifts fingers to brush the paint on his cheek.  “I’m a black cat, not a--oh.” He’s glad the dim lighting and the face paint covers his blushing.

Straightening his shoulders, he gives her what he hopes is a brave smile.  The two thumbs up he receives does bolster him slightly, and after checking to make sure the headband holding his cat ears in place isn’t crooked, he makes his way around the dance floor to the refreshment table.

“Heya, Cas!” Dean greets cheerfully.  “Want some punch?”

“Actually,” Castiel says, just loud enough to be heard over the music, which has just changed over to something slower.  “I was wondering if you’d like to dance?”

Dean’s eyes go wide, and he nearly drops the ladle in the punch bowl.  He firms his grip just in time, and sets it down more gracefully.  His gaze sweeps across the room for a moment, looking at all the braver kids coupling up and awkwardly swaying back and forth.  “You… want to dance with me?”

Castiel holds out a hand.  “Yes.”

For a moment he thinks he’s made a mistake, that all the flirting that he’s thought has been going on between them really was in his imagination.  That Charlie is playing some elaborate joke on him, and he’s going to offend Dean and bring down the wrath of the alpha already filling his life with all the love and affection Castiel wishes he could give him.

And then Dean’s hand is in his.  He looks dazed, disbelieving, as Castiel leads him to a dark corner of the auditorium where they won’t have an audience of middle schoolers.  

“Cas, what is this?” Dean asks as he steps into Castiel’s arms.

“It’s a dance.”  Castiel thinks that’s probably not what Dean’s really asking, but the scent of dandelions and honey wafting up from the omega is addling his brain.

Dean’s smile is weak, but he doesn’t move away, inching closer instead.  “Yeah, but uh… why me?”

“Because I like you,” Castiel says, with all the honesty he’s kept locked up in his chest since he first met Dean.

“But I’m mated,” Dean blurts.

Castiel’s muscles lock up, pulling them both to a stop.  “Charlie said…” he can’t say it.  If it’s true, it’s probably painful for Dean.  If it’s not true… well he hopes he and Dean can still be friends after this.

Even in the darkness, Castiel sees the sheen in Dean’s eyes.  But it’s the deep sorrow in his scent that confirms the truth.  “She told you about Cain?”

It’s a powerful name, and it suits what Castiel wants to imagine is a good and strong alpha for Dean.  “Only that… that you’re alone now.”

Dean’s fingers tighten against Castiel’s waist, and he clears his throat.  His voice is as thick with emotion as his scent.  “Yeah, I am.  For a very long time.”

It takes everything not to pull Dean against his chest and promise to take the previous alpha’s place.  He doesn’t really want to do that.  He knows it’s not possible.  But maybe, just maybe, he can fill a new role in Dean’s life.  “I’d like to change that,” he says.  “If you’ll have me.”

“You’re not bothered that I’m already mated?” Dean asks.  “That I’ll always smell a little bit like him?”

“It bothers me that you’ve lost someone you love,” Castiel answers honestly.  He has no idea which parts of Dean’s scent are his own, and which notes come from his previous mate.  All he ever breathes in is Dean.  Handsome, kind, sweet Dean.  “And you smell wonderful.” He chuckles and looks away, glad again for the facepaint covering his blush.  “As long as you’re not put off by an alpha who’s attracted to you anyway-- _oof._ ”

Dean’s arms crush the air out of his lungs, but he doesn’t mind at all when the omega buries his face against his neck and inhales deeply.  When Dean lifts his head, his eyes are heavy lidded and his lips slack as he pants, pulling Castiel’s scent through his mouth.  “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I met you.”

A wide smile stretches Castiel’s mouth, and he beams up at the taller man.  “The feeling is mutual, but ah--” he looks over Dean’s shoulder at the room full of students that could witness anything they do.  “Maybe we should wait until we have more privacy?”

Dean twists to look behind him, but he’s grinning when he turns back to Castiel.  Combined with the heady scent of dandelions and honey, Castiel is awestruck by the beautiful joy on the omega’s face.  “Yeah, probably a good idea.  Would you like to come over for a drink after this shindig is over?”

“That sounds lovely.”

They finally begin to sway to the music.  A little more gracefully than the middle schoolers behind them though.

***

“Are you sure this is okay?” Castiel asks warily as he follows Dean down the darkened corridor of the art and sciences building.  

“Of course it is,” Dean says as he flips on the light to the pottery room.  When his alpha doesn’t immediately follow him inside, he grabs his hand and pulls him along.  “You said you wanted to learn how to use a pottery wheel, so how else are we gonna do it?”

“We could sign up for a class,” Castiel grumbles, although he stops resisting as Dean tugs at him.  “I didn’t think you’d break into the school during summer break.”

“It’s not breaking in,” Dean jingles his keychain, where the copy he’d made of the building’s master key hangs with his personal keys.  

“But we don’t have permission to be here.”  

“Relax, it’s not like we’re going to blow anything up.” Dean winks at Castiel.  “Save that for your students.”

It pulls a chuckle from Cas, and Dean perks up happily at the noise.  He leads Castiel to the wheel and starts giving him the same safety spiel he gives to the kids at the beginning of the year.  “And most important,” he says at the end, once he’s got Castiel perched on a stool next to a spinning wheel, “make sure to keep it nice and wet.”

That last is whispered right against Castiel’s ear, and the alpha shivers.  His spearmint and ginger scent intensifies, and the sweet honey he’d picked up from Dean as they began scent bond wafts up from his skin.  “I believe I’m very clear on how to do that,” Castiel says, low and full of promise.

And sure enough, Dean feels a hint of slick between his legs.  Hot damn, this lesson is not going to stay G-rated at all.  Hopefully he won’t pop a boner or slick his pants next fall when he starts teaching classes in here again.  The threat of embarrassment isn’t going to stop him now though.

He drags another stool up behind Castiel’s and frames his hips between his thighs and leans close over his shoulder.  Then he presses a kiss to the healed, but still bright pink mating bite he’d left on the right side of Castiel’s neck.  The one that matches the semi-fresh bite on the right side of his own neck, opposite Cain’s old mark.  

He gets odd looks sometimes, for having two mating marks.  But they’re easy to ignore because he’s incredibly grateful he’s gotten to have a once in a lifetime love, twice.

“Are you ready to get dirty, Cas?” Dean murmurs against the sensitive scar.

“With you, Dean?” A shiver runs through Castiel.  “Always.”


End file.
